


Feathers

by wicked_writings



Category: Slipknot
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, a rather pathetic one-sided physical fight, because that's always fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_writings/pseuds/wicked_writings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey only wants one thing for his birthday...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of FICTION. As far as I am aware, this never happened (except in my dirty little mind, and you don't want to go there). I have no association with any of the people featured in this made-up story and I make no money from its publication. And yes, I am very ashamed.
> 
> A/N: I don't believe I ever got around to posting this anywhere. It's been completed for well over 3 years and just sat in a folder. 
> 
> Title is from a quote by Jean Paul Richter - "Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time."

'…..and may all your birthday wishes come true!”

Despite the well-meaning sentiment, Joey couldn't help but scoff. It was a typical birthday card message, but it meant nothing to him. His birthday wishes _never_ came true. Besides, he was too old for wishes. Even birthday ones.

He read through the rest of the postings on the band's internet forum, grateful and appreciative for the outpouring of messages. Their fans never forgot their birthdays, and it always humbled him to see how much they cared. They really were the best fans in the world.

“Still going?” a voice asked cheekily from behind him.

Startled, Joey turned around. He didn't have to look far to see the culprit breathing over his shoulder. He had recognised the voice anyway.

“Hey Craig.”

“Hey Jo.”

The sampler flopped down into the couch next to the drummer. Comically, he leaned into Joey, trying to peer at the laptop screen.

“More declarations of undying love?” he asked sarcastically.

“Only 3 this time,” Joey deadpanned. “I'm disappointed. I think I'm losing my touch.”

Craig laughed. “You're getting old, that's why,” he teased.

Joey poked his tongue out. “I'm younger than you!” he retorted, not minding the jibes. He scanned the last few messages before closing the window and shutting his laptop down. He snapped his laptop closed and flopped back in his seat.  
Craig copied him.

The sampler seemed to sense his mood. “Getting older isn't the worst thing in the world,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Joey replied after a pause. “It's not that... it's...”

But he was unable to complete his sentence. It just wasn't something he'd ever expressed outside of his own head before. Craig let him gather his thoughts for a while. He knew Joey wanted to get something off his mind, but he wasn't sure what.

“Joey... you know you can tell me anything, right?”

The drummer nodded slowly. He turned his head to face Craig, as if he was gradually gaining the courage but losing it when he wanted his mouth to open.

Finally... “It's not getting older that's the problem, Craig. It's....” He chuckled bitterly. “It's those damn birthday messages. 'May all your birthday wishes come true' and all that bullshit. Wishes never come true. Never. Sometimes you want and want and wish and wish but you never get it. It's bullshit. Fucking crap. There's only one thing I want and I'll never get it. 'Birthday wish?' Whatever. I'm over it.” He faded into silence.

Craig was surprised at the venom in Joey's voice. He'd never heard the drummer speak like that before, and figured that the cause of his tirade must be affecting him greatly. After a while, he spoke.

“What is it, Joey? What's the birthday wish you never got?”

It seemed like hours before Joey replied, and when he did, the answer was so faint Craig had to strain to hear.

“Corey”.

Craig took a few moments to process it. “Corey?!”

Joey nodded, his head bowed.

“Holy shit, Jo...” Craig sighed. “Joey, I....” It was his turn to be speechless. He knew he ought to say something supportive and caring, but he thought Joey might have been right.

It would be impossible.

He found his voice again. “How long?” he asked.

“Forever, I think,” Joey replied. “Well, I dunno. Since before he even joined the band, I guess. But it's just gotten worse over time.”

Craig did some mental arithmetic. That was at least... 8 years. He had been carrying a torch for that long? No wonder he was so despondent. Craig's heart went out to him. He wished he could do something.

He was trying to think of something else to say when the door of the tour bus opened and a third of Slipknot traipsed in. Including the man himself, Corey. Out of the corner of his eye, Craig could see Joey watching the singer.

Mick and Sid had wandered in as well, and evidently they had been out enjoying the delights of the town. After acknowledging the two on the couch, the boys went back to discussing the finer details of the girls at a strip club called 'Kitty'.

Craig closed his eyes and pleaded silently. _Don't Corey... don't... please..._

But of course, it was no use. He felt his heart sink as he heard Corey join in. He risked a glance at Joey, and felt even worse at the pale look on the other man's face.

“She had legs up to her fricking _head_ dude! Damn! Wouldn't mind a closer look if you know what I mean.” Corey winked at Mick, who threw him a wide grin in return.

“She was checking you out too, ya know...”

But Corey already knew that. His ego puffed out his chest and he smirked. “Well, come on, does that surprise you?” he exclaimed in jest. Nearly falling into the table, Corey seemed to realise that Craig and Joey were listening in. “Oh, Jo! Happy birthday dude... you shoulda come out with us... fuck now that's a damn good way to celebrate!” He laughed, and Craig smelt the alcohol on his breath.

“'cuse me” Craig heard Joey mumble. He barely got a glance at Joey's distressed, pale face hiding under his long brown hair before the drummer pushed past the others and stumbled off the bus.

“What's up with him?” Corey asked, staring after Joey's retreating back.

Craig thought quickly. “Uh... he's not feeling well.”

“Oh... sucks on your birthday, eh? At least we get a day off.” Corey seemed to forget about the drummer quickly, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the table and heading for his bunk.

Craig sighed.  
What a fucking mess.

*

Craig knew he wasn't the only one who didn't sleep well that night. Joey's bunk was across from his and he could hear the drummer tossing and turning behind his curtain. He didn't know why he was so bothered by Joey's revelation. He'd never been particularly close to him, but for some reason he really wanted to help. He just didn't know what he could do.

His brain was still ticking over when his body gave into sleep.

*

The next day, Craig felt like he was made of fuzz, thanks to his lack of sleep. He wondered if Joey regretted telling him what he had, and thought about asking him if he wanted to talk. But when he pulled Joey aside just before sound check, the drummer was grumpy and irritated. He brushed Craig's concerns about him away, not caring to talk. Craig just sighed and let him stalk off, knowing he'd at least tried.

A voice behind him startled him alert.

“Still not feeling well?” a now sober Corey asked him, watching Joey climb behind his monstrous kit.

Craig opened his mouth, prepared to deliver another excuse for Joey. But he snapped it shut as a thought occurred to him. He knew this could backfire spectacularly. It could result in another rift that could threaten to tear Slipknot apart. But something inside him told him he had to at least try.

You never know.

“Uh, Corey? Can we talk? In private?”

*

Joey had a pounding headache and throbbing aches in his hands from where he'd battered the drums too hard. He'd opened his stupid mouth yesterday and said too much. Now, he couldn't take it back. He was insanely angry at himself, both for blabbing and for having a crazy crush on Corey for so long when the singer clearly didn't feel the same way.

He kicked at the door of his hotel room in frustration, prompting a few odd looks from other people in the hallway. He ignored them and slid his keycard in the slot, waiting for the green light so he could open up the door.

The hotel room was cool and dark, soothing him immediately. It was also empty, which he was incredibly grateful for. He'd drawn the single room tonight, one of the only things that had gone right that day. No one to bug him, or ask how he was feeling. He could get drunk in peace.

The curtains had been drawn by hotel staff and the only illumination came from a bedside lamp on in the bedroom. He'd dropped his bags on the floor there in a hurry before the concert, and now he stumbled on the edge of his suitcase, nearly falling over. He cursed and corrected his balance.

He quickly stripped himself of the clothes he'd changed into after the concert, apart from his boxers. He needed a shower, a bottle of rum and his bed.

It was as he was walking towards the bathroom clutching his bag of toiletries that he noticed the bottle of Cristal champagne on the bedside table, along with two champagne flutes. He let the bag fall to the ground, surprised by the appearance of the bottle.

It hadn't been there when he'd left for the venue.

He examined the bottle, but there was no note, no explanation. As for the two glasses, that was even more perplexing. He was the only person occupying the room. He supposed it was a belated birthday present from someone who'd forgotten.

He was mesmerised by the light glinting in the expensive champagne flutes when a pair of hands closed over his eyes and suddenly he couldn't see anything at all.

*

“What the fuck?!” Joey spat, trying to yank the hands from around his head. His heart was pounding in his chest from the shock, and he knew he was starting to panic. He tried to wrestle himself away but he was too small. He could feel the intruder behind him, and was suddenly aware he was nearly naked.

“Christ Joey, quit wriggling already. I'm not going to hurt you or anything!” Then the voice chuckled.

“Corey?!” Joey stood stock still, incredulous. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing!” Corey protested his innocence and dropped his hands. “Just, I didn't really do anything for your birthday yesterday. And I thought I should make it up to you.”

“By scaring the shit out of me? Christ, Corey!”

Annoyed at himself for being such a wimp, Joey snatched up his toiletries bag. He was glad it was too dark for Corey to see the red shame on his cheeks.

Corey figured Joey wasn't impressed. “Look, Jo, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Then what did you mean? How did you get in here, anyway?”

Corey sheepishly held up a keycard identical to Joey's.

“I managed to convince the chick at reception that I was Joey Jordison, and I'd lost my key.” He dropped it sheepishly on the bedside table. “Pretty lax security, huh?”

“Yeah, I'd say that,” retorted Joey, still pissed off. The whole thing was fishy. He hoped Corey wasn't playing some sort of practical joke on him. It wasn't like the singer to surprise someone with a bottle of hideously expensive champagne. In the dim light Joey could see Corey watching him, not quite so jovial now.

“I... um... brought some champagne.” Corey changed the subject. “Want some?”  
He held out a glass to Joey, as a sort of peace offering.

Joey looked at it suspiciously. He wasn't so keen on forgiving Corey so quickly. But at the same time, Corey did look quite repentant. And Cristal champagne was supposed to be damn good....

“Uh... yeah, ok... but I kinda want a shower. Afterwards?”

Joey thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in Corey's eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for him to be certain.

“Oh yeah, sure, cool. I'll, um, just be watching TV. That ok?” Corey asked.

Joey nodded, not sure of anything. He grasped his bag to his chest and quietly entered the bathroom.

*

Joey stood for a long time under the steaming water. The heat soothed his muscles and eased the aches in his hands. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Corey, peering at him in concern after he'd realised he'd scared him.

Corey usually preoccupied his waking thoughts, and his dreams. And now, he was sitting in his hotel room, with a bottle of champagne. Joey couldn't figure it out. He supposed Corey had some sort of ulterior motive, because this was just out of the norm for the singer.

Maybe he'd done something to piss Corey off, and playing some sort of trick on him was the singer's revenge. But Joey couldn't think of anything he might have done.

Part of him wished Corey wasn't there, and another part of him wanted him to stay. The part that wanted Corey to leave was the part that remembered the pain that he had gone through over the years. Disappointment after disappointment had hardened Joey's heart and he'd given up hope. The thought of Corey sitting there with him, only him, and then suffering the dismay of nothing happening haunted him. It was too real a possibility. 

The other part of him yearned for another chance. What if something happened? Drunken mistake or not? How could he pass up the opportunity? But Joey shook his head. That would be even worse. Having him once, and then never again, would be excruciating.

No. Better Corey leave.

Determined to make the singer leave, Joey finished in the shower and shut the water off. He watched the steam rise in the bathroom, misting the mirror. Despite knowing he was going to send Corey away, Joey couldn't help but reapply his makeup and do his hair. He'd always wanted to look good in front of Corey, and he couldn't pass up this opportunity, however brief.

Corey banged on the door. “Did you drown or something? Quit doing your hair, you look good, you always do!”

The singer was clearly impatient, but from his position on the other side of the closed door he couldn't see the smile spreading over Joey's face.

So Corey thought he always looked good? It may have been a perfectly innocuous statement but it warmed Joey's stomach in a way that made him quiver. Maybe he wouldn't kick Corey out so quickly.

“I'm coming!” he cried out, smiling at himself in the mirror. He smoothed a stray strand of hair and checked his eyeliner one last time. Perfect.

Not that it mattered, as it turned out. The bedroom was pitch black when Joey stepped out of the bathroom and he couldn't see an inch in front of his face. Not even the TV was on, despite Corey saying that was what he was going to do.

“Corey?” Joey asked in confusion.

The bedside lamp flared on in response. Joey was blinded for a second, and then he made out the other man lying on the bed, one hand still on the lamp.

“Sorry,” Corey said, staring up at Joey. “You took so long in the bathroom I thought I'd catch up a bit of sleep.” With that he rolled over, laughing.

Joey glared at him. “Shut up, Corey. At least I bathe.”

“Ouch! That hurt me, Joey. Down to the bone. Not like you to stoop so low!”

Joey just rolled his eyes. Now that Corey was in this mood, it would be a while before he snapped out of it. He'd learnt over the years to ignore it.

“I say, what's up with the towel? Awfully fetching night attire, I must say,” Corey said, adopting an upper class English accent.

“The towel... is there because I forgot to take any clothes in with me. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get some and go get changed.”

“Aye aye Sir.”

Joey sighed and smiled. _Don't ever change, Corey!_

“Ya know... I could just turn out the light and you can get changed in here,” Corey pointed out.

“Yeah... and fall over? Or put my shirt on inside out? Or have you turn the light on halfway through? No thanks Cor, I'll stick to the bathroom.” Joey winked at Corey as made his way back to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

Of course, he couldn't have said to Corey that getting changed in the same room as him outside of a Slipknot backstage context was entirely appealing. Or that he wouldn't have minded if Corey had switched the light back on halfway through. Those were the things he had to be careful about; make sure he didn't create raised eyebrows.

Fully clothed and hair re-checked, Joey made sure there was a light on in the bedroom before switching off the one in the bathroom. This time, Corey was watching TV, and the colours bounced around the room bathing everything in a blue glow.

“Finished?” Corey asked Joey dryly.

“Done,” Joey smirked. He awkwardly perched himself on the edge of the bed, blessing the restraint that stopped him from throwing himself on top of Corey.

The singer moved over, patting the bed next to him. “Don't be a stranger, Joey. I don't bite!”

“I have evidence to refute that,” Joey replied, narrowing his eyes. It was all in jest, and as they laughed he shuffled closer to Corey. They were nearly touching, and Joey felt himself warm up.

“So... um... Corey.... why _are_ you here?” Joey knew he sounded timid, but he couldn't help it.

He saw the singer shrug. “Like I said, I didn't really do anything for your birthday. Speaking of which – I seriously want some of this fucking champagne.”

Corey sat up and reached for the bottle, carefully removing the cork. Joey watched him, suspicious about the sudden way Corey changed the subject. He knew he wasn't being told everything, and that always made him feel slightly hurt.

He took the glass that Corey offered, sipping at the sweet wine. He'd never had champagne this expensive before, and instead of being able to enjoy the experience all he could think about was why this was happening.

Corey was staring at him again. “Jo? You alright? Don't you like it?”

“I like it. I love it, I mean. It's really nice. But Corey...” He sat the glass down on the bedside table next to him. “Cristal champagne? It's seriously expensive. You didn't go out and buy this for my birthday. Beer? I can understand that. Vodka, rum... I wouldn't be surprised. But $400 for a bottle of wine? Start telling me everything, Corey, or you can piss off.”

Corey knew he was beat. He slid his flute onto the table and turned to face Joey.

“Jo... I'm really sorry. I just... didn't think... well I didn't really think things through. I didn't have time.”

“'Didn't have time'? What do you mean?” Joey was becoming more and more confused.

“I... Joey, please don't get angry at me. But Craig came to see me today.” Corey spoke the last sentence in almost a whisper. The look that came across Joey's face told him the drummer knew what he meant. He'd never seen Joey look more upset.

Joey wanted to run and hide, the room to open up and swallow him whole, or anything! There was no doubt what Craig had told Corey. He didn't need to hear it from him. There was so many emotions rushing through him he didn't know what to feel. Anger, at Craig for betraying him. Embarrassment, because now Corey knew how he felt. Shame, for having such feelings. He wished he could turn back time and take back what he said to Craig.

Joey couldn't look Corey in the eye. What was going to happen now? Was the champagne a way of easing the rejection that Corey was surely going to deliver?  
He hid his face in his hands, but he couldn't blink away the image of Corey's face.

“I know you're probably pissed... Craig told me he promised you he wouldn't tell anyone. But he thought it was worth a shot... cos you never know. I thought... maybe... maybe it _was_ worth it.”

Joey stopped breathing. He didn't move. The blood was rushing in his ears and he thought that maybe Corey was confused. Or he was. Maybe he heard wrong. He hesitantly raised his head, staring at the man next to him.

“What?”

Corey sat back and sighed, looking around the room. “Look, I know this is weird. But maybe we could try?”

Joey couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. His heart was still beating out of time and he was gulping down air, but it was his mind that was most chaotic. He shook his head, as if it might help the confusion.

“And what? You'll just kiss me, and bam, you'll either love me or hate me? I don't get it, Cor.”

Corey sighed. “I know I didn't really go about this the right way. But I didn't mean we just fuck or something... I dunno, maybe consider this some sort of date?”

A date. Yeah, Joey could handle that. He could handle a fuck too, but if it was only to see if Corey liked him – he didn't see the point. That wasn't how he worked.

“Normal people have dates to find out if they like each other or not, don't they? Are we any different?” Corey pointed out.

“Well, we aren't normal for starters. And you aren't gay,” Joey countered.

“Nooo....” Corey said slowly. “I'm not _gay_ , as such. But you know... I've never limited myself to women.”

Joey stared at him. This was new information. “I didn't know that.”

“I didn't expect you too. I don't exactly advertise it.”

They sat in silence for a while, occasionally sipping at the sweet wine. The TV blared on in the background but neither watched it. Joey was thinking about everything, about how what he thought he knew and expected was all wrong and he was floundering on unknown ground.

Corey was staring into his champagne flute, mesmerised by the bubbles in much the same way as Joey had been. He had to admit he'd been thrown for six when Craig had revealed his little secret, and it hadn't been an instant decision to set up their 'date'.

He'd tossed the idea at Craig a little while on, after sound check, when he found all he could think about was the idea. He'd never had thoughts about Joey before, but when the option was open to him, his mind went wild. He'd always considered Joey off-limits in a 'fellow band member don't fuck with the band' kind of way, but now the path was clear.

And he hoped like hell he hadn't just gone and blown it.

He took another sip and let the champagne slide down his throat. The Cristal had been Craig's idea. He'd been hoarding it for a while, after being given it by a promoter several weeks ago. He was saving it for something special, and he had figured that Corey and Joey trying to get together was special enough. Corey had forked out for the champagne flutes. From the hotel bar.

“Sooooo.... this is a date?”

Corey looked up. Joey still looked slightly confused. He didn't blame him.

“If you want it to be.”

“Yes. I mean, only if you do too.”

“Joey, if I didn't, I wouldn't be here.”

“Yeah, ok, good point.”

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence. It wasn't quite going the way Corey had expected – but then again, he hadn't thought this far ahead. He heard Joey chuckle to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Joey said, shaking his head. “It's just... this is a _date_ , our first one at that, and we're sitting in a hotel room, watching TV and drinking booze. How is this different from any other night on tour?”

Corey frowned. “Ok... yeah. But the booze is Cristal champagne. We don't have that every night.”

“Alright, points for the booze.” Joey smiled. He felt giddy, and it wasn't the alcohol. He couldn't quite believe he and Corey were supposed to be on a date. He made a mental note to thank Craig profusely.

“Well, if you did wanna get out of here, we could go for a walk or something?” Corey suggested. “See what we find.”

“And get mugged?” Joey deadpanned.

“Hmmm. Yeah ok, fair enough. Um, TV then? Crappy date, huh...” Corey sighed and collapsed against the pillows.

“No, not crappy. I can think of worse.” Joey didn't want Corey to think he didn't appreciate it.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like... I dunno. Discovering your date is an axe murderer. Or getting locked in a restaurant bathroom. Or being made to watch the boringest movie ever. Being made -”

“Yes Joey I think I get the point.” But Corey was smiling, and Joey knew he wasn't annoyed. He smiled back, suddenly feeling shy. It wasn't something he felt often. He was glad for the dim light in the room.

They concentrated on the TV for a while, as if they weren't sure what else to do. As far as dates went, it wasn't going as they usually did for Corey. If he was with a chick, sure as hell he would have had her in bed by now. And by bed, he didn't mean on top of it, watching TV.

After a while, Corey switched his concentration from the TV and onto the other figure on the bed. Joey was stretched out on the bed, head on the pillows, brown hair bunched up around his shoulders.

He didn't seem to notice Corey's sudden attention. The singer studied his kohl-lined eyes, the glossy strands of hair that snuck down over his chest, his pale, translucent skin. He'd never looked at Joey the way he did now, seeing him from another angle entirely, as if through another's eyes.

He couldn't help but notice how Joey seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. The drummer yawned, and as he shifted he saw Corey staring.

“What? I'm tired....”

“I can tell.” Corey grinned. Suddenly feeling braver, he shuffled closer so they were nearly touching.

“If you wanna sleep... I can go,” he said softly.

Joey shook his head, trying to stifle another yawn. “Tis ok... I might fall asleep, but I don't want you to leave.”

Corey chuckled. Liquid bravery was still surging through his veins.

“You watching this then?” he asked, meaning the TV as he held up the remote.

Joey shook his head again, not taking his eyes off Corey. He watched as the singer switched it off, not bothering to get off the bed to turn it off properly. The room fell into darkness, and he couldn't see the other man at all.

He could he was moving around on the bed though, and hoped he wasn't going to leave despite Joey's plea to the contrary. But after a minute, Joey's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could just make out Corey's outline.

He felt rather than saw Corey lay down beside him, and was thankful he hadn't gone. The singer sighed softly, and Joey wished he could snuggle up beside him. It was still too early for that though, and he made himself keep his distance.

The night was warm, and they didn't need the blankets. Joey listened to Corey breathing, counting his exhalations. It wasn't long before he was lulled off to sleep.

*

Bright sunshine streaming through a gap in the curtains woke Joey up the next morning. It was another second before he registered that Corey was still beside him, and still asleep, the both of them in the clothes they had worn the night before.

They had rolled closer in their sleep, and the singer's body was comfortably close. From where he was laying, Joey could watch Corey as he slept. He looked so much more peaceful than when he was awake – the usual anger that simmered so close to the surface during the day was noticeably absent.

Joey had no idea how long he lay there and watched for. It was all still quite surreal for him, as if his life had taken on a new dimension. Corey was laying there next to him – it was all he'd ever dreamt about.

He could have stayed there all day. But soon the sunlight touched Corey's eyelids too, and he sighed and blinked his sleep away. The singer smiled when he saw Joey so close, reaching up a hand to brush the hair away from his face. Joey couldn't help but blush at Corey's touch.

“Morning you,” Corey said softly, his voice cracking slightly.

“Hey.” Joey replied, just as softly. He was disappointed when Corey sat up, rubbing his eyes. But he found himself placated a moment later when Corey apologised with a grin, rushing off to the bathroom with a hurried, “too much champagne!” tossed over his shoulder.

Joey took the opportunity to check he was free of panda eyes in the mirror. Satisfied, he brushed his hair and made sure he wasn't embarrassing himself. The skin on his cheek still tingled from where Corey had brushed over it before, and he held his fingers to it, smiling to himself.

He didn't hear Corey come out of the bathroom.

“Why is it you spend half your life on a drum stool, the other half in front of a mirror?”

Joey spun around. Corey stood there, smirking. He liked teasing Joey like that, and grinned when he saw the tell-tale red flush rising in Joey's cheeks. He didn't want him to think he was being mean though, and reached out for his hand.

“I was lying last night. You don't always look good, you look amazing.”

Joey felt his stomach drop out of his body. His breath caught in his throat, choking him. It wasn't often he was left speechless, but now he found himself unable to speak.

He clutched Corey's hand tighter, as if he was afraid he would let go. Instead, the singer came closer.

“Not like you to be so quiet,” Corey teased. He knew he'd hit the right spot with Joey, enjoying his reaction. He caressed Joey's hand with his fingers, wanting so badly to take things further but not sure how.

He felt like he was 10 again, hiding under the bleachers and trying to kiss the pretty girl. Those fumblings were awkward and exploratory, and he'd certainly done his best to refine his technique over the years. But now the smoothness he prided himself on had disappeared and that awkwardness prevailed.

Joey bowed his head. It was all a bit too overwhelming, like he was sinking in quicksand and couldn't think to save himself. He could feel Corey so close he could hear him breathe, and suddenly the hand on his squeezed. He looked up through his long hair. As Corey's lips closed on his he shut his eyes. All he could feel was Corey; his body pressing against his own, hands entwined and now lips joining.

It was fumbling and awkward like it was under the bleachers, but Corey didn't want to stop. Joey tasted sweet, his lips soft and yielding. Corey was suddenly aware of morning breath and chapped lips, remembering the lip gloss Joey used constantly and thought the taste was peach. He was rough while Joey was smooth, but the contrast was appealing. And when they broke for breath, Joey leant his head against Corey's shoulder. It had been all he'd ever wanted and so much more.

Fists pounding on the door disturbed them.

“Bus call! Hurry the fuck up Joey!”

“Shit,” Corey breathed.

Joey chuckled. “I forgot.”

“Me too.”

But it was another few moments before they reluctantly dropped their hands. They'd been saved from awkward conversation by the demands of the tour, and while both of them were grateful neither would admit it.

“I'll see you at the bus, ok?” Corey's voice sounded slightly concerned, and Joey wished so much he could stay.

“Yeah.” He smiled back, wanting to say more but his mind was blank.

Corey touched him softly on the hip and with a final glance, crossed the room to the door.

Joey watched him leave, feeling like a part of him had gone out the door as well. He couldn't help wondering what could have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. He hoped he would have the chance to find out.

*

Joey reached the foyer with his suitcase at the same time as Corey. They shared a smile and silently walked together to join the others outside. Seemingly contrary to the demands of the visitor who'd pounded on Joey's door, no-one seemed ready to leave. Bags and suitcases lay piled on the pavement, forcing passing pedestrians to swerve and dodge the mess.

Jim's head turned to them as they pushed through the doors. “Corey! Where the fuck were you last night, you bastard? Out with some chick?”

“I guess you say that. Except he's not a chick.” Corey indicated towards Joey with his head, smiling.

“Oh. Whatever, dude. Nice to not have to hear your snoring, anyway,” Jim shot at him, and turned back to his conversation with Shawn.

It wasn't unusual to crash in someone else's room after a gig. Bouts of drinking or competitive video games would often see a member too drunk or tired to leave. Craig was the only one who caught on, and he gave Joey a broad grin.

The drummer could hardly contain the smile he gave in return. He stood close to Corey as they waited for the bus, but found himself lacking for a conversation topic. A chilly wind blew in, and Joey buried his hands in his pockets. His jacket was buried at the bottom of his suitcase somewhere, and he wished he had it on. But knowing his luck, the bus would pull up right when he was halfway through pulling everything out.

“You OK?” Corey asked him, and Joey could see and hear the concern the singer felt.

“Yeah... I'm cold.” Joey shivered.

“Here.” Corey swung his own jacket off his back, wrapping it around Joey's shoulders. It was warm and smelt like Corey, and Joey tugged it closer around him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, feeling better instantly. Corey stood there only in a shirt now, but Joey didn't see any tell-tale goose bumps or shivering. He'd always been the first one to feel the cold.

He remembered back to the video shoot for 'Left Behind'. It had been pouring the whole day, soaking them to the skin and leaving them freezing. He'd lost the feeling in his feet before the director finally called a wrap, and it had taken him days to feel warm afterwards.

He heard the bus before he saw it. It swung into the space in front of the hotel, door squeaking open. He stood back with Corey as the others entered with their gear, grateful to be out of the wind.

“I'll take it,” Corey offered when he saw Joey reach down for his suitcase. The drummer stopped halfway down.

“Ok.”

Corey barely heard him over the wind he was so quiet. But he saw Joey's lips move, and the drummer curled his hands back into the warm jacket.

“Go in before you freeze!” he told Joey, feeling bad for him in the weather. He got a bashful smile before the other man turned and climbed onto the bus.

He couldn't take two suitcases at once, so he picked up Joey's to take on first. Craig came out help him, seeing his predicament. It also gave him a chance to talk.

“You did it?” he asked, barely able to keep his excitement in.

Corey laughed. “Well, we didn't _do_ it, but yeah... I guess we're dating.”

Craig smiled. “That's fucking awesome.”

“You have no idea, Craig. He's amazing. I fucking owe you one.”

“I'll remember that,” Craig replied in jest. He grabbed Corey's suitcase and they struggled up the steps into the bus.

Chucking the suitcases into a corner out of the way, Corey looked for Joey. He couldn't see him amongst the others, and wondered where he'd disappeared off to.

“Who you looking for?” Sid asked, perched behind the table in the bus' kitchen, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“Joey.”

Sid gave him an odd look, and Corey wondered if he'd caught on. “I think I saw him go upstairs.”

“Thanks bro.”

Sid just grunted and shrugged. Corey moved on and climbed the stairs to the top level. Sure enough, Joey was sitting on one of the couches at the back. No one else had come up yet, and Corey was glad to see they were alone. He saw his jacket still wrapped around Joey's shoulders as he approached.

“You still cold?” He hoped not.

Joey shook his head. “I'm warming up. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Corey sat down next to Joey, letting his arm rest behind the drummer's head. He stroked Joey's hair idly, feeling the smooth strands slide through his fingers. Joey sighed, his body suddenly warm from Corey's affections. He felt contented and safe, relaxed and happy. He wished he could tell Corey how much he appreciated it, but the words didn't seem to want to form.

Instead they sat in silence, not moving as the bus' engines roared into life and they started to move through traffic. The vibrations of the bus and the gentle touch of Corey began to woo Joey to sleep. He felt his eyelids begin to close and his body start to give in to sleep.

He wanted to lay down, and looked up at Corey. The singer knew what he wanted, he could see the sleepiness on Joey's face. He shuffled away from Joey, but not letting his hand drop. He touched the drummer's shoulder gently, encouraging him to lay down.

Joey gratefully swung his legs up onto the couch and settled his head in Corey's lap. Those hands resumed their stroking and he sighed in contentment, closing his eyes to sleep. It wasn't long before Corey gave into sleep too. His hands clutched Joey still, but relaxed their stroking as he began to dream.

*

Craig was holding fort below, trying to keep the others out. He didn't know what the two were up to, but didn't want anyone going up just in case. Jim, Chris and Paul hadn't cared in the slightest, all of them retiring to their bunks to catch up on sleep. Sid studied Craig from where he sat, wondering what the sampler knew that he didn't. He knew better than to try and ask though, and just watched.

Mick wanted to go upstairs to play video games, and was frustrated at Craig's efforts to keep him downstairs. Sid figured Mick was a bit obtuse and didn't realise Craig was keeping him out because Corey and Joey were up there. Doing what, he couldn't fathom. It took 5 minutes of quiet arguing before Mick gave up and stalked to the back of the bus, much to Craig's relief.

It was then that Shawn pounced. Watching from the shadows, he had his own questions. “What the fuck's going on, Craig?”

“Nothing,” the sampler replied, a little too quickly for Shawn's liking.

“If it's nothing, then why aren't you letting anyone up the stairs?”

“Errr...” Craig was stuck. “Just 'cause. Corey and Joey wanted to talk, that's all,” he burbled.

“And they couldn't talk down here?”

“Not with all the big ears around here,” Craig pointed out.

Shawn narrowed his eyes. He knew Craig wasn't telling the whole truth.

“C'mon man... what the fuck's going on?”

“Nothing! I swear!”

“Bullshit.” With that, Shawn got up. Not even looking at the sampler, who was spluttering, he headed for the stairs. Brushing off Craig's defensive hand, he took the steps two at a time. Rounding the stairs at the top, he prepared to call out loudly for the two miscreant members of his band. He stopped dead though, when he saw Corey and Joey on the couch.

“Motherfucker.”

Not bothering to venture any closer, he turned and stomped down the stairs.

“Right.” He halted in front of Craig. “Since when have Corey and Joey been fucking each other and why didn't I know?”

Sid spat his coffee out.

Craig turned a dark shade of red. “Well, to be honest, I don't think they've fucked each other yet.”

“Yet? Jesus-fucking-Christ. Two days ago Corey was stuffing banknotes down the g-string of a stripper called Candy and now he's upstairs asleep with Joey. What the fuck is this band coming to?”

Leaving Craig speechless, he shook his head and, much like Mick, stalked off to the back of the bus.

“Well that went well.”

Craig looked up. Sid was mopping up his coffee with a bunch of tissues.

“Yeah... well...” Craig gave up and rested his head in his hands. He hoped he hadn't screwed things up for Corey and Joey, not after he'd tried so hard to get them together.

“Are they really together?” Sid asked, the tissues dripping coffee onto the floor.

Craig nodded. “But only from like last night... I haven't really been able to talk to Joey, but it seems like it's going ok.”

Sid went back to his mopping. “That's cool. Joey's liked Corey for years.”

Craig started. “He told you?”

“No. But I thought it was kinda obvious.”

Craig stared at him in astonishment. “I had no idea until Joey told me the other day.”

Sid shrugged. “It was subtle, I guess. But there. Poor Joey, I always felt so bad for him. But now – that's fucking awesome. And it'll be good for Corey, he's so used to using people and chucking them away. He won't be able to do that to Joey.”

“What makes you say that?” Craig asked, hoping like hell Corey wouldn't.

Sid looked up and smiled. “'Cos we'd all fucking kill him, of course.”

Craig chuckled. “Good point.”

Silence descended on the bus. Craig couldn't hear anything from upstairs, and now that there was no point keeping anyone away – Shawn would surely have told the others by now – he decided to call it a day. He left Sid to clean up his mess and trundled back to his bunk.

He was passing Jim's bunk when a head popped out.

“Craig! What the fuck's going on? What's this about Corey and Joey?”

“Didn't Shawn tell you?”

“No. He seemed like he was in a bad mood so I left him alone.”

While they were talking, other heads appeared through curtains covering bunks. Before he knew it, Craig had the attention of not only Jim, but also Mick, Chris and Paul.

“What's up Craig?” Chris asked, looking confused. “I heard Shawn go off his nut about something.”

He knew there was no point keeping quiet. At least Shawn hadn't opened up his big mouth and ruined it for Corey and Joey. Craig had the opportunity to smooth that path.

“It's Corey and Joey.”

“What about them?” Mick shot at Craig.

“They... um, kinda got together. BUT.... oh shut up!”

There was an outburst of shouting, whistling and incredulous questions. Craig had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the din.

“Quit it already!”

“You're kidding right?” Paul looked and sounded gobsmacked.

“No, I'm not fucking kidding. And I swear to fucking God, any of you tease them or make it hard it for them, I will fucking kill you.” Craig was so serious, even Mick shut up.

“Christ.” Jim said, rolling back into his bunk.

“Where are they now?” Chris asked.

“Upstairs.”

“That's why you didn't want anyone to go up, then,” Mick said, pieces beginning to fall into place for him.

“Yeah. Just leave them alone, okay?”

He waited for four heads to nod before preceding onwards to his own bunk. He collapsed onto the mattress, jerking the curtain closed. He could hear the others murmuring, but didn't want to hear what they were saying. Fishing around for his mp3 player he plugged the earphones into his ears and flicked on the latest album by Cradle of Filth.

He hoped the others had listened to everything he had said.

*

It was the bus rocking to a stop that woke Corey up. Joey was still fast asleep on his lap, and his hands were still tangled in his hair. He could hear the others downstairs talking and moving around, and glanced out of the window to confirm that they were at the venue.

“Joey?” he whispered, his hands stroking Joey's cheek. “We gotta get up.”

The little drummer wriggled on his lap, fighting away sleep. “I don't want to...” he said sleepily.

Corey chuckled. “Me neither, babe. But we're here. It's time for soundcheck.”

Joey made a face. “Let's just stay here. Nobody will notice we're gone.”

“No, no-one will notice there's no drummer and no singer,” Corey laughed. “C'mon.”

Joey stumbled to his feet, looking drowsily around. He yawned, not realising Corey was watching him.

“What?” he asked when he saw Corey staring.

“Nothing. Come here.” Corey stood up, just wanting to wrap his arms around Joey. He didn't know where this affection had come from, considering he'd never been like this with anybody else. Joey slid his arms around Corey's neck, looking up at him through his ice blue eyes. They shared a smile before Joey rested his head against Corey's chest, feeling the singer's arms around his waist.

Corey buried his face into the crook of Joey's neck. He felt rather than heard the drummer sigh, tightening his grip around Corey. The singer kissed Joey's warm skin softly, nipping slightly with his teeth. This time Joey gasped, tilting his head so Corey had better access. Corey sucked gently, lost in the intoxicating scent that rolled off Joey's skin. He could feel the fire in his stomach and suddenly became aware of how much Joey affected him.

Then someone cleared their throat. “Ah... sorry to interrupt, but we're all waiting for you.”

A very bashful looking Craig turned and left as soon as he had delivered his message. Corey sighed, disappointed they had to stop.

“To be continued?” He raised an eyebrow at Joey.

The drummer smiled. “I think I'd like that.”

*

Joey could tell the others were staring at them when they stepped out of the bus. It didn't faze him though – there was a large part of him that was proud he was with Corey, and wanted everyone to know. He stuck close to the singer, moving shyly towards the other members. Paul looked like he was going to say something, but then Sid elbowed him in the ribs and he quickly closed his mouth. Their manager, sensing impending doom, quickly started to issue instructions.

Throughout sound check, Joey was aware of the eyes on him. He ignored them, and continued to bash his drums to obliteration. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone knew he was gay, and he just happened to have a new boyfriend.

Who also happened to be the lead singer of the band.

He could see Corey in front of him, and allowed himself to be distracted in between songs. Occasionally the object of his affections would turn around to smile at him, as if he could feel Joey's eyes on his back.

And when Shawn called an end to sound check, Joey tossed down his sticks and didn't waste a second getting off his drum stool. Corey came over to him, ignoring the stares that followed. Without stopping to talk, he took Joey's hand and led him backstage with the others. Corey was determined to make the other members of the band realise they weren't going to hide anything. They were not guilty of anything, and the sooner everyone accepted them the better. He had no time for petty complaints, and the only thing he wanted to think about right now was Joey.

They all sat down to dinner in silence. Corey couldn't help thinking how unusual that was. The only other time they had dined without speaking was when Shawn had had to temporarily leave the band when his wife become seriously ill. That time, they had all been waiting for a call to say she had lost her battle. Thankfully, it had never come, but mortality had hit them hard that night. Corey remembered it now, how he had vowed to step up and live life better. He hadn't. He'd gone right back to the drugs and the whores and the booze and shut his eyes to anything else. Including Joey.

He held Joey's hand under the table, eating awkwardly with one hand. He hadn't really had time to think until now, and as he did he couldn't help thinking about Joey's crush. He tried to remember anything that would have – _should have_ – alerted him to the fact that his drummer thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Nothing popped out at him, and he could only conclude that he was as blind as a bat or had dismissed anything out of the ordinary as Joey 'being a drama queen'.

He wished he could explain to Joey that he hadn't meant to ignore him, or torment him so much over the years. He'd never been particularly sensitive, and sometimes it got him into hot water. Right now wasn't a particularly good time to start apologising though. He looked around at everyone else. They were all concentrating hard on their plates, refusing to look at each other. He couldn't understand how they were all letting this affect them so much.

“Right!” Sid's voice rang out across the table, making everyone start. The DJ let his fork rattle onto his plate. “This is fucking stupid. I hate to be the one to tell you all to fucking grow up, but come on. Build a bridge and get over it. They aren't hurting anyone. They haven't got leprosy either, they aren't going to infect you with anything. You all ought to be happy, not fucking depressed.”

Everyone looked at Sid in shock. Corey's heart gave a little leap in celebration, glad he'd spoken out.

“Sid's right,” Shawn added quietly.

Corey saw Joey swallow hard and squeezed his hand in support. With Shawn finally on their side, the others had no choice but to come round. He just wished they would start talking to him again.

“Yeah, ok whatever,” Paul muttered, screwing his napkin up in his hand. “It's all good.” He still looked slightly mutinous, and Corey hoped he wasn't all talk and no action.

Mick glared at him, and spoke up. “I think... what some of us are worried about is what happens if these two decide they don't like each other so much.”

Corey saw his point, but he had something to say about that. “Come on, Mick. Has this band ever been all happiness and butterflies? For fucking _years_ we all hated each other. But we're still together, still making fucking awesome music.” He heard murmurs of support. “I know I can speak for Joey when I say we aren't out to hurt the band. But if we don't take this chance we don't know what could happen. Just... leave us to it. You know we aren't going to walk out of Slipknot for anything.”

Joey smiled at him. He hadn't wanted to speak up, but now he didn't have to. Corey had said everything for him as well.

“Yeah... well, you say that now.”

“Oh shut up Mick. Get a grip,” Craig exclaimed. “Just cos you chew through whores like a puppy through cardboard doesn't mean other people have to as well. Some of us don't mind staying with one person.”

There was an uneasy silence around the table. Corey contemplated pulling Joey out of there, but at the same time he didn't want the others to think they had won. For someone who had an infamously big mouth, he didn't feel like spewing off anything more than he already had. He wanted the others to come round by their own volition.

“Listen... can't we just, you know, look around it? If it bugs you guys so much? Turn a blind eye and all that,” Shawn suggested.

_Trust him to try to mediate_ , Joey thought. He just wished everyone would shut up and leave them alone. He appreciated his support though. Like Corey, he wanted everything to go back to normal.

He could feel Corey's thumb gently massage the back of his hand. It was sending shivers up and down his spine, turning his legs to jello.

“Yeah, alright whatever. I'm going to go get changed. We do have a show tonight, if you've all forgotten.” Paul tossed his napkin onto his plate, noisily scrapped his chair back and left. Mick, Jim and Chris rapidly followed.

Sid gave Joey and Corey a sympathetic smile and left as well, not as thunderous as the others.

“So... you guys _are_ serious about this, right?” Shawn asked. He sat back in his chair, as if he was leading one of their meetings.

“Yes.”

“Yes.” Joey and Corey both answered at the same time, both with the same determination.

Shawn just nodded. “Ok.... You know Mick has a point, right? This isn't going to affect the band, is it?”

Corey sighed. “Look, Shawn, neither of us can look into the future. We can't guarantee you anything. But I can tell you now, the only thing we want is a chance. We don't want to tear Slipknot apart.”

Shawn nodded again. He tilted his head at Joey. “And you? The silent partner? What's your take on this?”

Joey just gaped. He didn't really have anything to say that hadn't been said already. “Uh... same as Corey really. I don't see why everyone has to make such a damn fuss.”

He saw Corey nod out of the corner of his eye, and thanked God he was there with him. Normally he was bubbly and talkative, but there were some things that made him want to curl up in a ball.

Shawn shrugged. “You're right. And to be quite honest I don't care if you two are together or not. Just don't break up my band and I don't want to hear you two fucking on the bus in the middle of the night. Or any time, really.” He got up left.

Joey couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, the release fading away some of his tension. Corey and Craig followed.

“Now that was the Shawn we've all come to know and love,” Craig said between fits of giggles.

It felt good to laugh after the heavy tension at dinner. They smiled at each other, and as Joey caught Craig's eye he remembered something. “Hey Craig... thanks. For breaking our promise, going behind my back and telling Corey!”

For a second, Joey thought that perhaps Craig hadn't got it. Then the sampler started laughing again, and he knew he had. “No problem Joey... any time! But seriously, I'm really glad it's worked out behind you two. If it hadn't, you probably would have garrotted me you little shit.”

“Hey! I wouldn't have been the one that opened my big fat mouth!”

They started trading insults, and for a while everything seemed like it was back to normal. Then Shawn poked his head in the door, telling them to hurry up and get changed. When the door opened they could hear the screaming of the crowd, and for the first time that evening it really dawned on Joey that they had a concert that night and they were due on stage in less than an hour.

“Oh shit.”

There was a pause, and then all three jumped up at once. Craig gave them a quick smile and a wink and disappeared after Shawn.

Joey made to follow Craig but Corey tugged on his hand.

“Uh uh. Where do you think you're going?” Corey smirked devilishly.

Joey turned back to face Corey slowly, a grin spreading over his face. “Well, I suppose we do have a few minutes, don't we?”

“Even more if you don't spend so long on your hair,” Corey teased. The reply was a poke in the stomach, and he pretended to double over in pain. “Oh Joey, you always know how to hurt me the most, don't you?”

Joey poked his tongue out, sliding his arms around Corey's neck.

“You know... I can think of better things to do with that tongue of yours...” Corey murmured, pulling Joey closer.

This time, their kiss wasn't awkward and unsure. Corey kept it slow, tugging and biting gently at Joey's lower lip. He heard the drummer moan, the sound alone making him shiver.

“Mmmmm... you are amazing, you know that?” Joey breathed as they broke apart.

“Yeah... I did actually...” Corey responded with his usual cheek. “But I'm much better when I'm with you.”

“Ohhhh!” Joey laughed, punching Corey in the chest.

“Hey hey...” Corey said gently, removing Joey's hand but not letting go of it. “Let's save that for later, huh?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Joey replied, his smile starting to hurt his cheeks.

“For now, let's make tracks before we get interrupted for the umpteenth time.”

Joey chuckled. “Story of our life, isn't it?”

“Well.... this band is a bunch of nosy arseholes. Speaking of arseholes... I think the dressing room beckons.”

“Lead on.”

*

Joey was grateful for his mask that night. It kept everyone from seeing the brilliant smile on his face, which was completely un-Slipknot. He wanted to run up to the front of the stage, throw off his mask and kiss Corey for all he was worth in front of everybody.

He couldn't quite understand himself at the moment.

Thankfully, he kept himself behind his drum kit and satisfied himself with watching Corey all night. The lead singer stalked the stage, spitting the words out over the audience. He was an amazing frontman and Joey had never tired of watching him. Now, he just couldn't get enough.

There was something animalistic about the way Corey moved, and an element of awe to his singing that turned Joey on something fierce. At the end of the gig, he had to stay behind his kit for a few moments to 'compose himself'.

“Hey Joey, you ok?”

The concerned face of his bodyguard poked up between his cymbals.

“Uh, yeah. Just a bit tired,” he lied. Thankfully, the thought of being caught out improved his condition immediately, and he was able to stand up and join his band mates at the front of the stage thanking the fans.

Corey threw his arms around Joey and for a minute the drummer thought they were going to start making out on stage. But it was a quick hug, and perfectly innocent from a bystander's point of view. Joey was the only one who noticed how Corey's hand lingered on his shoulder.

Being out the front of the stage, so close to the fans, really humbled Joey. They were so rabid, and so dedicated. He wondered if anyone out in the crowd tonight had been one of those who'd posted the birthday messages on their forum. He wished he could thank them. In a way, if it wasn't for those messages, he would have never ended up spilling his soul to Craig, and he wouldn't be with Corey now.

He followed the others off stage, and for a while the adrenaline that pulsated through their bodies after a gig disguised any resentment that any of the others might have felt. Mick even slapped him on the shoulder as he passed, and Joey had to grab Craig to stop from falling over, much to Chris' amusement.

For the first time he could think of, having a shower with the others made him nervous. He couldn't decide whether it was because he would be naked with Corey _and_ everyone else while they were dating or the possibility the others would keep wondering if anything would 'happen'.

Thankfully, an opportunity presented itself. Corey had to disappear for an interview and Joey took the chance to shower quickly. There was no hotel tonight as they had a 12 hour bus drive to the next city, so everyone was showering backstage. Only Mick was in there with him, and now that the adrenaline had drained from their systems they were unusually quiet. Joey ignored him, shampooing his hair quickly.

Corey still wasn't back when Joey came back into the dressing room, damp hair threatening to soak his shirt. He grabbed a cold beer and a sandwich, flopping down on one of the sofas. He ate quietly, observing the others moving around him.

Sid and Chris hadn't even bothered to shower yet, the both of them playing on an X-Box in the corner. Craig was texting, Mick trying to dry his hair, Shawn talking with their manager by the door. Paul and Jim were standing by the tables laden with food, shoving down as much as they could.

Only Corey was absent.

Joey was missing him, wishing he would come back already. And when he did, 30 minutes later, still in his sweaty overalls and mask, Joey just wanted to jump up and hug him. He refrained though, settling for a broad smile.

Corey removed his mask, never taking his eyes off of Joey. “Hey you,” he said softly.

“Hey! Took your time,” Joey replied, glad to see him.

“I know babe, I'm sorry. They wouldn't shut up. I-”

“Bus call 15 minutes! First warning,” their manager boomed from the corner before leaving.

“Shit! I gotta shower. I'll be back as soon as I can, ok?” He looked really disappointed.

Joey nodded, resenting the fact he had to leave again so soon but reminding himself they had all night on the bus. Corey grabbed his bag and took off, shooting another smile back at Joey before he left.

Shawn watched him go, and then turned his attention to the forlorn figure on the couch. He wandered over, pulling a beer off the table as he went. He let himself fall onto the sofa next to Joey, the resulting shockwaves nearly ejecting the small drummer off the sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh, no problem,” Joey said bewildered, rearranging himself back on the cushions.

Shawn burped. “Sorry,” he said again.

Joey just laughed. “So charming. Is that the center piece of your conversations now?”

The percussionist nodded. “I'm a master of ceremony and speech Joey, you know that.” He paused for a moment. “Lover boy disappeared?”

Joey chuckled. “'Lover boy'? What the fuck, Shawn?”

His new companion shrugged. “Well, what else would you call him?”

Joey had no idea where Shawn was going with this. Thankfully, Craig noticed his predicament and wandered over, perching himself on the armrest.

“Good show, huh?”

They continued a banal but safe conversation about the gig until “Bus call!” was announced for the final time. Joey took his time gathering his things, trying to delay so he could walk to the bus with Corey.

Just as he thought he couldn't linger any longer, Corey burst into the room, wet hair swinging around his shoulders.

“Hey!” He swung an arm around Joey's shoulder, kissing him quickly on the lips, much to the apparent disgust of Paul who was behind them.

“Oi! Get a room already!” he called out.

“We have. You're in it!” Corey shot back, starting to walk with Joey to the door. Paul began to laugh. Joey wasn't sure if he thought it was genuinely funny or he was talking the piss. Either way, he didn't really care.

He leant his head on Corey's shoulder as they walked, feeling Corey tighten his hold. It was nearly pitch black outside, the moon hidden from view by angry storm clouds. The lights already on inside the bus were their only guide, but the romantic in Joey didn't mind at all.

The only thing taking away from the experience was Paul, still trailing them. He tried to block that out though, and pretend it was only the two of them. All too soon, they arrived at the tour bus, its engines already going and belching smoke.

“Come on boys, you're late!” their manager cried out when he saw them. They quickened their pace, clambering up the steps to the living room. Paul pushed past them, and their manager went forward to sit with the driver, mumbling something about keeping him awake. Corey and Joey found themselves alone in the room.

“Alone at last,” Corey whispered in Joey's ear, stroking his hair. Joey closed his eyes in pleasure, enjoying Corey's touch as the singer's fingers roamed over his skin.

Despite knowing Joey for years, Corey was learning and discovering things about him he'd never noticed or even fathomed before. Like how Joey's skin was soft and pale and cool all at once, quivering at his touch. And how his hair shone brilliantly in the light, smooth and glossy, so unlike his own. He counted the eyelashes framing Joey's ice blue eyes, and drew his finger across his inviting, supple lips.

Joey could feel his breath was becoming shallow, every now and again catching in his throat. He was warm; hot blood pulsating through his veins and heating his skin. Corey was so close they were touching, and he could smell the scent that came from him. He breathed it in deep, holding it in his lungs.

Joey felt his legs begin to give way. All of a sudden, Corey was holding him up, whispering things in his ear that Joey didn't think helped his unstable legs. Corey half-carried Joey to the couch, setting him down gently. The change in situation and location didn't slow Corey down at all. He hooked a lock of Joey's hair away and began to kiss that same sweet spot that had made Joey so aroused that morning.

“God... I want you so badly,” Corey breathed, making Joey moan. His hand convulsively grabbed Corey's thigh, squeezing it, as if to say, “I want you too.”

He'd never wanted anything more in his life.

Corey's lips changed vocation to kiss him intensely, and Joey lost himself in the moment. All he could feel was Corey, and the consummation was total. He let his partner take control; felt the hands that gently gripped his face and the fingers that separated and softly caressed his skin. He was lost, all control of breathing and movement and thought gone.

“Um...”

“Fucking hell!” The explosion from Corey awoke Joey from his trance. He looked at him in shock, and then turned his attention to the new person in the room. A rather red in the face Paul was crossing to the fridge.

Joey could feel Corey's hand on his shoulder tightening as the singer stared at Paul, angry at the interruption. He was annoyed as well, disappointed that the amazing feelings coursing through his body had been wiped away.

But he began to forget about Paul, now pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge, as Corey's grip began to hurt.

“Uh... Corey?” Joey spoke up softly. Corey didn't seem to hear. His eyes were beginning to water. “Corey!”

The singer whipped his head around. “What?” he snapped.

“You're hurting me.” Joey was confused. He drew back, away from Corey who seemed to be upset at him as well as at Paul. He wasn't sure what had happened – Corey had been so sweet to him just a minute before.

“Shit. Jo, I'm sorry.” Corey felt awful. He let go of Joey's shoulder, feeling even worse when the drummer shuffled away from him. He hadn't meant to snap at him.

“Um, Shawn wanted me to tell you something too. No fucking on the bus,” Paul said loudly, oblivious to the change in atmosphere between the two. He turned and left.

Corey, normally so loquacious, couldn't think of anything to say. He knew he'd hurt Joey, that much was evident by the look on his face. In the past, he'd said and done things that had negatively affected people and not given a damn. Now, he felt angry at himself and an overwhelming guilt.

“Uh... I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'm kinda tired. Night.” Joey fled, leaving Corey open mouthed and shocked. Things had been so amazing just moments before... now, Joey didn’t even want to be in the same room as him.

Anger rose in him. If Paul hadn't been so inconsiderate and interrupted them like he had, Corey wouldn't have snapped at Joey and made him leave. It was all Paul's fault.

He was incensed. Anger blinded him to everything else, and he rose from his seat with a growl. He tossed back the curtain to the bunks, hearing it rip. He couldn't see Paul, but he could hear him. Thundering into the back room, Corey didn't notice how everyone gathered around grew silent and looked at him. All he wanted was to make Paul pay.

The bassist didn't know what hit him. One minute he was talking about new strings for his bass with Mick, the next he felt like his head had been bashed into a brick wall and he was seeing stars.

“What the fuck?!”

“You fucking arsehole!” Corey drew back to fist to punch again, this time getting Paul in his stomach. The bassist doubled over in pain, not sure what the hell was going on.

Mick threw himself at Corey, trying to stop him from hitting again. His sheer size swamped Corey and the singer found himself unable to move his hands. His mouth still worked though, and he hurled insults and abuse angrily.

The others in the room were too shocked to move. Craig sat on the edge of the couch, frozen in conversation with Chris. He watched the fight with open eyes, wondering what on earth had happened to make Corey so angry. Then a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Unnoticed by anyone else, Joey was standing in the doorway, looking thoroughly upset and frightened. He saw Craig watching him and bolted.

Forgetting about Corey, Craig took off after the drummer. He knew that whatever Corey was angry about had something to do with Joey. “Joey! Wait!”

Thankfully the small size of the bus made the drummer easy to find. He was cowering on a couch on the top level of the bus. He was hugging his knees to his chest, face buried in his arms. Craig could see his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

“Joey?” Craig knelt down in front of the couch, reaching out with a hand to rub Joey's back. It was a few moments before the drummer looked up, tears streaking his cheeks.

“What happened?” Craig asked quietly, very concerned about Joey's current state.

“H-hee... it-it was Paul... he came in... Corey got really upset. It was nothing, really...” Joey hiccupped, and wiped his face with his hands. Craig dug around in his pockets and handed him a tissue.

“You aren't telling me everything. Did he do something to you?” Craig asked carefully.

Joey shook his head. “Uhh... well... he was holding my shoulder and it hurt... but it wasn't because he was angry with me, he was angry with Paul. He didn't realise.... but then, he snapped at me... like he was angry with me. I know he wasn't... but...” He shook his shoulders despondently.

Craig sat up on the couch in front of Joey, pulling him into a hug. The drummer pressed into him, seeking comfort. Seeing Corey in that rage had freaked him out, bringing back bad memories from when he was younger and his parents were going through a divorce.

Joey closed his eyes, feeling his tears start to subside. He rested his head on Craig's shoulder, grateful that he was there. Inside, he was in turmoil. His stomach churned with worry and he felt somewhat guilty, like it was his fault everything had happened. He knew what he was really upset about was the possibility that his time with Corey had come to an end. He desperately didn't want it to, but if Corey couldn't keep his temper in check he wasn't sure if he would be able to deal with it.

After a while it occurred to Craig that it was quiet downstairs. Whatever was going on with Corey, they'd calmed him down. He knew now why he'd gone after Paul, but he thought it was an over-reaction on Corey's part. Perhaps it was the lack of privacy that was really getting to Corey. You couldn't get really intimate with someone on the bus and not have every single other human on it find out pretty quickly. And it was such a new relationship, and bound to be passionate because of that.

He just really hoped it wasn't going to be over because of one stupid interruption.

*

Downstairs, Corey had recovered his temper, although it wasn't as much in check as Shawn would have liked it to be. Paul was holding an icepack to his jaw, but it didn't seem like anything was broken. If anything, he was slightly miffed he hadn't been able to swing back.

Mick was standing next to Corey, arms folded with his most menacing look entrenched on his face. He'd been appointed 'guardian of the peace', which meant he had the right to forcibly restrain anyone who decided they needed to let off a bit more testosterone. In other words, he got to punch anyone who got a bit heated.

“Sooo... what the fuck is going on, Corey?” Shawn sighed, perching himself awkwardly on a bench. Everyone was present apart from Craig and Joey, who had gone AWOL.

Corey sat with his head in his hands. He'd blown it, big time. He'd not only got himself into trouble with Paul and Shawn, but he'd ruined it with Joey. All he wanted was to go and find the drummer and beg forgiveness, but he had to get past this lot first.

“I'm sorry. I've said it. Do we need to go into details?” He'd had to swallow his pride to apologise, but he didn't particularly want to discuss what had happened in front of everyone. And it was no use asking them to leave, because if Corey had to tell Shawn and Paul everyone would find out eventually anyway.

“Corey, you don't go off into a fit of rage and punch out somebody for nothing. I think Paul at least deserves to know why he nearly got his jaw broken,” Shawn said.

Corey could see his point. He sighed. “Paul came into the room with me and Joey. He didn't really do anything... but I snapped at Joey because of it and he took off. That's why I got so angry.”

“So really... you got pissed off at Paul interrupting you, you got annoyed with Joey and because Joey got annoyed at you, you decided to beat up Paul? Do I have that straight?” Shawn asked, looking rather confused.

“Well... it's not so straight forward. I -”

Paul interrupted Corey. “Let's just say they were getting kinda hot and heavy. I think Corey might have thought he was getting lucky.”

Some of the guys laughed uncomfortably. Corey was just getting more and more incensed. He knew Paul was angry at him for the fight, and that was why he was goading him now. But it wasn't helping anything. He swallowed what he really wanted to say and kept his mouth shut. Shawn was looking thoughtful, nodding to himself.

“Corey, you need to get a hold of yourself. It was your fault that Joey took off, not Paul. But I will stand up and say I had a bit to do with it. I sent Paul down there to tell you not to start fucking. It wasn't the smartest thing to do, I'll admit it. But at the same time Corey, you're on a damn bus. How can you expect people to not walk in on you? There's no privacy here. If you are going to go off every time someone comes in on you and Joey, it's not going to be nice for anybody. You need to think about that.”

He knew Shawn had a point, and that it had to be said. “Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. I was a dick.”

“Well, I'm done here. I'm going to bed.” And with that, Shawn headed for the bathroom. Corey looked up slowly, worried that it wasn't over with the others yet. But they were drifting off one by one, leaving him alone. Paul sent him a look that he wasn't able to figure out, and hoped the bassist had the capacity to forgive him.

When everyone else had disappeared, he stood up, stretching. His back was starting to ache, a sure sign the fight hadn't agreed with him. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the pain. Wincing, he started to walk.

He climbed the stairs slowly, bracing himself on the walls as the bus negotiated the twisting roads of some anonymous town. Apparently he had been loud enough to alert Craig, who was waiting for him as he stepped onto the top level.

“Is he ok?” Corey spoke before Craig could open his mouth and scold him.

Craig gave him a slightly patronising look. “He's sleeping, no thanks to you. Don't wake him up. Go to bed. Or something. Just go away.”

The words seemed to carve themselves in Corey's chest. It didn't sound like Joey wanted to see him. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like the world was against him.

“I just want to say sorry.”

“It'll take a damn sight more than that. Seriously, just leave him alone for now.” Craig wasn't going to budge. He folded his arms, and Corey got the hint.

He resignedly climbed back down the stairs, each step so much heavier than usual. There would be no sleep for him that night, he knew that much. There was only one thing that worked with this sort of pain.

*

Corey cradled a bottle of vodka for the rest of the night. He sat up in the kitchen area, not talking and not looking at anyone who dared venture in. Once he'd finished that bottle, he got started on the whiskey. By the time dawn was spreading over the horizon, he was absolutely wasted.

“Christ Corey, you look like shit.” So said Jim, who was standing in the kitchen, still drowsy and after a glass of water.

“Fffucck you,” Corey slurred, swaying in his seat and taking another long draught of alcohol.

Jim wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd thought Corey was over the alcoholism, but apparently it'd reared its ugly head again. He was still contemplating when Shawn padded into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Whatya do.... oh.” At first, Shawn couldn't figure out why Jim was standing in the way, staring at something. Then he followed his glance and saw Corey drinking himself to obliteration.

“Oh Christ, Corey.” Shawn sighed and pushed past Jim. “Get him a glass of water, will you?” he asked the guitarist, who obeyed without a word.

“Come on, this won't do, you fucking idiot,” Shawn said to him. He tugged the bottle out of Corey's grip, swatting away his attempts to get it back. He exchanged the bottle for the water with Jim, telling him to pour it down the sink. Jim appeared rather disappointed at the waste of such a fine spirit.

“Drink this.” Shawn held the glass to Corey's lips. Scowling, the singer refused to participate. “I'll stay here all day, Corey. I've taught 4 children how to eat without refusing or spitting it out and I can damn well do it with you too.”

Reluctantly, Corey downed the glass, along with two aspirin. By now feeling rather ill, he didn't protest when the two men pulled him up and dragged him along to his bunk. Stuffing him in, Shawn drew the curtain back. By the time the curtain settled into place, Corey was asleep.

“Hide the alcohol,” Shawn instructed Jim. They stashed the beer, wine and spirits any place they could, including Mick's bunk. The guitarist would have a pleasant surprise when he woke up, but as alcohol didn't tend to have much of an effect of him Shawn wasn't concerned about that.

Hoping like hell Corey would sober up before Joey saw him, Shawn tried to get some more sleep as well. The last thing they needed was another split in the band, and Shawn worried that Mick's prophecy was going to come true.

*

Joey woke up on the couch at about the same time they pulled up in front of their hotel. At first, his sleep addled mind told him he'd fallen asleep with Corey, but then he registered that he was alone and it all came flooding back. He tried to pull the blankets back over his head and go back to dreamland, but that was never going to work.

“Up and at em, Jo.”

Instead of Corey's cheerful voice, it was Craig who was there for him.

“I don't want to.”

“I know, Joey. But you gotta. You can get more sleep in your room.”

It wasn't the sleep that Joey wanted. He was worrying about meeting Corey, and what they would say. While he was dawdling, Chris came up the stairs. He started to talk with Craig, and Joey couldn't help but notice they were glancing over at him every now and then. Which meant they were talking about him.

He tried to ignore them, feeling like an animal on display at the zoo. He fiddled with a hole in the blanket, accidently making it bigger. It wasn't until Craig sat down on the couch that he looked up again.

“What is it?” he asked the other man.

“Chris? Oh, it was nothing.” But Craig was far too aloof, and Joey knew it wasn't 'nothing'. And that he wouldn't be able to get it out of Craig.

“So how are you feeling this morning?” Craig asked.

Joey shrugged. “I dunno.” He really didn't.

“Come on Jo... you can do better than that.” Craig was rubbing his shoulders again, and it was working. Whenever someone did that when he was upset, it either made him cry again or made him open up. He thought he was about to do both.

He blinked away the hot tears he could feel pricking at his eyes. He wished his emotions would leave him alone – he was too old to do this. Craig didn't seem to care though.

“I just wish everything was back to normal,” Joey admitted. “I don't want to be annoyed at Corey, I want it to be just like it was yesterday morning.”

“But _are_ you annoyed at Corey?” Craig probed.

Joey thought for a moment. “No. No, I'm not. I know he didn't mean any of it. I'm just... worried about his temper. I don't like it when he gets angry.”

“That's understandable Joey. No one can blame you for that. I know Corey feels awful. I think he misses you,” Craig said gently and carefully. He didn't want to give Joey the impression that he was being mean to Corey, but at the same time he wanted Joey to know how much Corey cared.

It seemed to work. “Really?” Joey asked quietly, his tears drying up and a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yes. He was kinda miserable last night. He knows what he did was wrong, and I don't think he's ever going to let it happen again.”

“Good,” Joey said. Then, “I want to see him.” Hope and determination were surging through him.

Craig could see his plan backfiring, and had to think quickly. “Well, honestly Joey you don't look right. Why don't we go over to the hotel and get some sleep and a shower first?”

Reluctantly Joey agreed. Something seemed kind of fishy, but he doubted Craig would play him. He had to trust him. Craig went down the stairs first, slowly. The others were meant to have dragged hung-over Corey out of the bus and hidden him in a hotel room so Joey wouldn't see.

Sid was in the kitchen, and he nodded at Craig when he saw the sampler poke his head around the corner. It was safe. Corey was gone.

They grabbed their unopened suitcases and hauled them across to the hotel's foyer. Craig could see Joey looking around for Corey and he could tell the drummer was disappointed they hadn't come across him by the time they entered the room they were sharing.

Keen to stop Joey from going exploring and finding Corey in the state he was in, Craig encouraged him to have a shower. The drummer was notorious for his exceedingly long showers, and Craig was counting on it today. It was an hour before Joey stepped out of the bathroom, and another hour by the time he'd done his hair.

In contrast, Craig was done in the shower in under 10 minutes, but he didn't think Joey had even noticed. The drummer was distracted and quiet, so different from his normal chatterbox self.

Craig felt for him, and found it hard to swallow his own guilt. He'd set Joey and Corey up, and now look what had happened just a couple of days later. And while he wasn't sure if it was a lie, what he'd said to Joey about Corey hadn't exactly happened.

Despite copious amounts of water and aspirin, Corey had seemed too depressed and out of it to talk properly. Craig liked to think that if he had been sober and in a better frame of mind, he would have said exactly what Craig said he had.

*

It was a subdued, bleary Corey that dragged himself down to the bus that afternoon. He'd slept fitfully after the alcohol had worn off, partly because of the headache that was squeezing tight his head and partly because of the guilt and the shame.

Shawn hadn't let him see Joey, and Corey had to grudgingly admit he was right to do that. In a drunken, sleep deprived state Corey would have only made things worse. He didn't want Joey to know he was drinking heavily again. His newly-roused temper was bad enough.

He didn't see Joey down by the bus. He didn't know Joey and Craig were already on board, and that the drummer was watching him out of the tinted windows upstairs. 

Joey was like a man dying of thirst, but his elixir wasn't water, it was Corey. Even in crumpled clothes, with messed up hair and heavy, tired eyes. There was a part of Joey that wanted to run down to him, curl up with him and hide himself in Corey's chest.

“Watcha looking at?” Craig sat down next to Joey, handing him a beer. The drummer was startled out of his reverie but didn't reply.

Craig peered out of the window and spotted Corey in the crowd. “Oh. Corey?” he asked.

Joey nodded. “Yeah. Can't help it.” He sipped his beer, but he couldn't taste it.

“Oh Jo. Maybe you should really see him.”

“What, now that he's all sober and slightly more presentable?” Joey cocked a knowing eyebrow at Craig, who was going red.

“How did you know?” Craig asked, shocked.

Joey just smiled and went back to looking out of the window. “Because he's always looked like that after a hard night of drinking. Don't forget,” he said, turning to face Craig again, “I've been watching him pretty closely for years. I know a lot more about Corey than you probably realise.”

Craig hadn't thought about that. He had no idea how deep Joey's desire had run, and figured he probably indeed knew things that no-one else would notice. He didn't say anything, just shook his head and chuckled. So much for their plan to keep Corey out of sight.

Joey watched as the group outside made their way into the bus. Almost instantly the quiet inside was shattered with heavy footsteps and loud voices. Craig and Joey looked at each other.

After a pause, Craig spoke. “Do you want me to go down and tell Corey to come up here?”

“Yeah. Ok. If you think I should.”

“I think you should.” Craig gave Joey a quick hug, then turned and exited down the stairs. Joey sat nervously, with no idea what he was going to say to Corey.

People were dispersing themselves throughout the bus, but Craig found Corey quickly.

“Corey?”

The singer had his back to Craig, but turned quickly when he heard him speak. “Yeah?”

“Joey wants to talk to you. He's upstairs.”

A mixed range of emotions crossed Corey's face. Craig could read them all. Relief at first, that Joey was willing to see him. Then apprehension, as if Joey might have come to the decision he didn't want to see Corey anymore and this was going to be some sort of break up, and then sheer nervousness.

The singer shifted from foot to foot, his face pale. “Ok.”

He started to walk, and suddenly Craig was overcome with a sort of pity for him. “Corey – Joey still wants to be with you.”

The change in the singer was immediate. He whipped his head up, and the colour returned to his cheeks. “Really?” The relief was audible in his voice.

“Yeah. I thought maybe if you knew that... then you wouldn't be so anxious. Just... don't screw it up, ok?”

Corey nodded vigorously. “I won't. Uh, Craig? Thanks.”

Craig smiled. “Anytime.”

Feeling a lot better, Corey took the stairs quickly. He slowed when he reached the top though, some of his nervousness returning as he saw Joey sitting on the couch at the back of the bus.

“Hey.” Joey's voice was so quiet and soft Corey wasn't sure if he'd actually heard him speak. But he was watching him, and he saw his mouth move.

“Hey,” Corey answered, standing still for a moment. “I, uh...” He realised he looked a bit like an idiot and walked closer to Joey, eventually deciding to sit on the table a few feet away.

Joey looked tired and stressed, but there was a calmness in the way he sat and in his face, and Corey took solace in it. He just wanted to grab him in his arms and hug the pain away. His hands gripped the edge of the table.

“Joey... I am so sorry. I feel so stupid... What I did – I know... it probably brought back bad memories for you. I never wanted to hurt you...” His apology was stuttered and drawn-out, but Corey knew he didn't have the composure to deliver a speech worthy of the Oscars.

The drummer was looking down into his lap, and Corey hoped he hadn't blown it. “Joey?” he asked quietly.

The other man looked up slowly, and Corey had to gasp at the tears in his eyes. He'd done it, it was over.

“It's ok, Corey. I'm sorry, I think maybe I overreacted a bit. And I missed you so much.” The tears spilled over, and Corey realised they weren't there because Joey was letting go. He wanted him back.

Unable to bear the sight, Corey left his spot and fell on the sofa next to him, wrapping him tightly in his arms. He could hear Joey sobbing, and to his dismay felt his own eyes start to leak. He never cried.

Burying his head in Joey's hair, he tried to swallow down his own sobs, tried to be strong – if not for himself, then for Joey.

*

Corey had no idea how long they sat there, until the bus rocked to a stop and he felt how still and quiet Joey was in his arms. At first he thought the drummer was asleep, but as he bent his head to check Joey stirred and smiled at him. Corey kissed him softly on the cheek, wishing he could put into words what he felt but not finding them. Joey seemed to understand though, resting his head against Corey's.

Someone shouted up the stairs for them, so they reluctantly rose, Corey leading Joey away.

*

It was an entirely uneventful soundcheck and concert. To Joey's relief, the animosity that had been directed at them yesterday was nowhere as evident. If anything, it appeared the others had come round after they'd seen Corey's distress the night before.

Paul was sporting some impressive bruises, but seemed resigned to it – he gave Joey a wry smile when he saw him, making a joke of keeping a wide berth around Corey. They all laughed, and it felt like everything was back to normal. They chatted at dinner, about anything and everything except for Paul's injuries and Joey and Corey's relationship. Despite the more relaxed atmosphere, it seemed like the new couple was still the elephant in the room.

Joey didn't care though, just as long as there were no more altercations. Corey gave him a kiss before he slid his mask on in the dressing room, prompting Jim to screw up a piece of paper and toss it at him.

Laughing, Corey chucked it back, missing his target quite spectacularly. “Don't like it, don't look,” he declared, before kissing Joey again.

Joey blushed happily, hiding his red face behind his mask. In the huddle he felt Corey's hand on top of his.

*

This time it was Joey who had an interview after the gig. He bluffed his way through it, barely concentrating. The mask hid the completely unSlipknot-like smile on his face, and he tried to keep the happiness and anticipation out of his voice. It seemed to work.

Keeping his reputation somewhat intact, Joey thanked the interviewer and practically ran back to the dressing room. There was no bus call tonight as they were staying at a hotel. It was only 5 hours drive to the next city and they were due to leave the next day.

He found Corey freshly showered and trying to fob off a couple of groupies who'd snuck in. They seemed quite taken with him, and Corey shot Joey an exasperated smile and a wink as he saw him enter. Joey felt slightly annoyed at their presence, like he always did, but ignored them. He needed to shower anyway.

He was waylaid on the trip back from the bathroom by a group of fans, who swamped him with autograph and photo requests. By the time he'd made sure each of them had what they'd wanted and returned to the dressing room it had been well over an hour.

Corey had pawned the girls onto a very willing Paul, perhaps as some sort of compensation for fight the other day. They fawned over his bruises, which Paul claimed he'd gotten playing on stage. It appeared his bruises were turn-ons. He left the dressing room with an arm around each girl, grinning quite happily.

Corey and Joey laughed as they watched him go, knowing precisely how he was going to spend the next few hours. They had both been there, done that. They sat together on a couch in the middle of the room, not really talking, just watching everyone move around them. Joey curled up next to Corey, fighting the urge to sleep so soon. He was warm and comfortable, his head on Corey's shoulder.

Slowly the dressing room emptied. The roadies departed with the trucks for the next city, the groupies were booted out by security and a couple of band members headed out to explore the nightlife.

“Hey... bus is pulling out in 5 minutes if you want a ride back to the hotel.” Their manager poked his head around the door of the dressing room, directing his question to everyone who was left. He left just as quickly as he had appeared.

“Wanna go back now?” Corey asked Joey, who looked like he was half asleep.

“Yeah...” Joey mumbled, not really wanting to move but not minding the comfort of a bed. “Does that mean I have to get up?”

Corey laughed. “Yes, believe it or not. Come on.” He half pulled, half lifted Joey up into a standing position, tucking his arm around his waist. They walked slowly outside, shivering in the cool night air. It woke Joey up like a slap to the face.

“Christ.” The wind blew straight through his hoodie and chilled his skin. Being so thin, it was hard to keep himself warm. Corey rubbed his arm, and hurried him to the bus. Winter was definitely on its way.

They stumbled on board, relieved at how warm it was inside. Jim was passed out at the kitchen table so they gave him a wide berth, choosing instead to join a few of the others at the back of the bus. Shawn was passing around red wine, and being one of Joey's favourite hobbies he was soon putting away his fair share. The alcohol was warming him from the inside out, and with Corey next to him he felt happy and content.

They sat and talked and laughed, and for the first time in a few days it felt like everyone was relaxed. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps they had finally decided being annoyed was tiring. Either way, it was nice to feel normal again.

By the time they pulled up at the hotel, the wine had made Joey thoroughly drowsy and Corey could only sigh with amusement. Craig laughed when he saw how drunk the drummer was, winking and smirking at the singer.

He held up his room key. “Wanna swap?”

Corey nodded with relief. “Yeah, thanks.” He took the key from Craig, giving his own in exchange and promising to let him in to get his suitcase. He prodded Joey awake, dragging him upright and letting him lean on him as they walked through the hotel's reception. In the lift, Joey fell asleep on Corey's shoulder again until the 'ping!' shattered his peace.

“Come on sleepyhead...” Corey muttered, pulling him out of the elevator. After an abortive attempt to get him to start walking, Corey resigned himself to lifting Joey into his arms. The drummer was light, barely a struggle to carry.

It wasn't far to their room. It was awkward trying to open a door and hold Joey at the same time, but somehow Corey managed it. Slamming it behind him with his foot, he used his elbow to turn on the light.

Joey barely stirred as Corey laid him on the bed. Barely a second later Craig knocked on the door, handing over his suitcase. Corey grabbed Craig's own off the bed and in a matter of moments the mission was complete.

But Corey had no need for his suitcase as he stripped off. He tossed his clothes into a pile on the floor, not bothering to change. Joey murmured once or twice but didn't wake, and when Corey went to undress the drummer he had to carefully bring him over onto his back from where he had curled up.

He was quiet and gentle at first as he tried to remove Joey's clothes, but it wasn't long before he realised the drummer wouldn't have woken even if Corey had accidently rolled him onto the floor. After a small fight to drag down Joey's jeans, Corey's effort was successful and he was able to tiredly flop onto the bed.

It wasn't quite the night Corey had been hoping it would be. A comatose Joey hadn't figured in his imaginings. He had to chuckle. It wasn't he who had been yearning for this relationship for years. It was the unconscious drummer next to him.

Resigned to his fate for the night, Corey dragged the blankets up over the both of them and pulled Joey into his arms.

*

Despite the longer sleep he'd had, Joey was the last to wake up. He heard someone walking around the room, but it was a few moments before he registered who it was. Then Corey sat on the bed, peering down at him and everything came back.

“Good morning, starshine,” Corey said jokingly, stroking Joey's hair back over his ears. Joey screwed up his face at the thought of getting up and out of his warm bed and curled up even tighter, burying himself under the blankets.

“It's not going to work, Joey. The bus is leaving in half an hour,” Corey pointed out, leaning so close he was practically lying on the drummer.

But Joey wasn't convinced. He didn't know if it was the wine or something else, but he really didn't feel too good. His stomach was churning and his head pounded, and together they were making him feel like he was being used as someone's punching bag. He groaned, pressing his face into the pillow.

The weight on the bed was suddenly gone. Joey didn't move, guessing Corey had given up on him. He wasn't sure what was worse, the sickness he felt or Corey getting tired of him. But then the weight returned, on the other side this time.

“Here,” Corey said softly. He was holding out a glass of water and a packet of aspirin, and Joey struggled upright slowly. He took 2 pills, gulping down some water. The water helped with the dehydration Joey knew, and he tried to drink more than he felt like drinking.

It only made his stomach churn even harder. He sat still, hoping that would help. The nausea got worse, and Joey knew he was going to be sick. He made for the bathroom, stumbling off the bed. Corey was following, asking him something, but Joey couldn't make out the words.

He got to the bathroom just in time. His stomach heaved and convulsed as he threw up, his hair dangling down around his face. But Then Corey was behind him and holding his hair up, rubbing his back and murmuring words that seemed to soothe him.

Spitting, Joey felt his stomach start to settle. He was embarrassed he'd thrown up in front of Corey, despite the fact he'd done it many times before. But Corey didn't  
seem to care as he hugged Joey, and then stood him up to wash his face.

Joey's legs felt shaky and weak, and his head was dizzy. The water was cool and calmed him slightly, but he still had to lean on Corey as they made their way back to  
the bed. Corey's hands were stroking his face and brushing his damp hair away. The singer could feel how Joey was trembling under his fingers, and brought him close to lay against him. The nausea had gone at least, but vomiting always made Joey feel like crap and he was grateful to just lay on the bed with Corey.

The trembling eased after a short while, and soon Joey lay still against Corey. The singer was trailing his fingers through his hair, and it felt comforting and relaxing. He felt secure and safe too, like he was protected. He nearly fell asleep again as his nausea disappeared.

“Joey? We gotta go. You can sleep in the bus if you want,” Corey whispered. He was as reluctant to leave as Joey was, but they couldn't be late. Joey understood.

Corey rose to pack their suitcases, letting Joey lay on the bed for a little while longer. He settled the bags by the door, watching as Joey groaned and wriggled up to a sitting position.

“You feel a bit better?” he asked.

Joey nodded. His stomach had calmed down now that it was empty. He managed a weak smile as he rose to join Corey by the door. They hugged, arms lingering around each other. Joey made to grab his suitcase, but Corey stopped him.

“No, I'll take it. Let me know if you don't feel well, ok?” He raised an eyebrow at Joey, as if to make further his point. The drummer nodded shyly back and followed Corey out the door.

*

Joey slept the 5 hours to the next city, his head in Corey's lap. He was oblivious to anything around him, even the others as they laughed and joked and shouted, trying to get drunk before midday.

Corey woke him up just before they arrived at the venue, and this time he felt immensely better. There was no trace of the nausea, and his head was clear. He felt slightly stupid he'd drunken too much wine the night before, and vowed to make it up to Corey.

All he could for now was kiss Corey after the others had departed. He could tell Corey appreciated it, and seemed quite keen to keep going. With a promise, they reluctantly parted and followed the others.

*

Joey avoided the alcohol that was being passed around in the dressing room after the gig. Corey watched him turn down offers with a grimace, and had to laugh. He wandered over to him, wishing he could just pull Joey into his arms and kiss him like crazy, but there were too many people around.

“Fancy a tipple?” Corey asked in a terrible English accent, holding up his glass. Joey glared at him, which only made him laugh even more. “Darling, darling... it's delish!” And he downed the entire glass of coke, and hiccupped. “Whoops... that's enough of that. Coke. Great shit. Makes you do stuff you'd never do drunk.”

Joey just shook his head and sipped at his glass of juice. He doubted he'd ever be able to understand Corey. “You're crazy.”

“I know. Isn't that why you love me so much?” Corey asked, pretending to sway as he raised his hands out to emphasise his question.

Joey narrowed his eyes. There were people around. But then again, Corey was Corey and not many people paid much heed to what he tended to say. He tried to think of something to say in response. “Who said I loved you?” he asked teasingly, flashing Corey a smile he knew would break his heart.

“Because... I can see it in your eyes...” Corey whispered dramatically, coming closer. “Shall we... make a break for it? Hmmm? I hear one of the roadies is providing a taxi service back to the hotel......” He raised his eyebrows as high as he could as he peered keenly at Joey. He gave him a quick nudge as a further hint.

Joey rolled his eyes. “Yes.” Dumping his glass down on a nearby convenient table, he picked up his gig bag and didn't even wait for Corey to fetch his before heading out of the door.

“Hey! Wait up!”

The drummer laughed as Corey ran to catch up.

“Slow down there cowboy... wait, you weren't planning on leaving without me, were you?” Corey feigned hurt.

“Never,” Joey declared, sticking his head in the air and plowing forward. “Race you!” he shot over his shoulder and took off.

“Hey! HEY!” Corey stared after him for a moment and then rushed after him. They raced through the corridors backstage, bustling past bemused stagehands and roadies and bumping into various roadcases. They plowed out into the carpark, their lungs bursting in the crisp night air. They pulled up, laughing with each other, hands on knees.

“I... am... never... doing... that... again!” Corey gasped.

“Awww...” Joey retorted. “You a bit unfit or something?” He raised an eyebrow at Corey, teasing him. As a drummer, his fitness was superior.

“Hey! You two coming with me?” A roadie was calling out to them, and they looked up into his direction. “I'm leaving for the hotel in 10 seconds.”

“Yeah, we're coming,” Corey said, speaking for the both of them. Quiet now, they picked up their bags and headed for the van.

*

The hotel was nondescript and exactly the same as all the others they'd stayed in over the course of the tour. Grateful to be sharing a room, they rode the elevator together to their floor. Blissfully empty, Corey took the chance to start something. He pulled Joey closer, stroking his long hair over his ears and running his fingers down his cheeks.

“What you say about maybe stopping the elevator?” he suggested, raising his eyebrows.

“I say.... a bed would be a lot more comfortable,” Joey replied, smiling. He knew what Corey wanted, but it could wait another 5 minutes. Just to show he was still keen, he slid his arms around Corey's neck and reached up to kiss him.

“Mmmmm....” Corey moaned into the kiss, loving the taste of Joey on his lips. He kissed him hungrily back, his desire for something more almost overwhelming him. He'd been teased by Joey for the past few days and he didn't think he'd be able to cope much longer.

DING!! The elevator announced their stop and the two scrambled to pick up their bags and look reasonable before the doors opened. Corey was infinitely grateful he hadn't been impatient and carried on the kiss when the doors slid apart to reveal a squabbling family with several kids. As it was, they barely gave the two musicians a glance as they piled into the elevator. Joey was thankful to get off, and he and Corey made their way down the corridor.

$20 had ensured Corey and Joey had been given a room to themselves, and sure enough they found their bags deposited and waiting. Corey locked the door behind them, dimming the lights. The curtains hadn't yet been pulled, and he found Joey standing in front of the windows, watching the lights of the city. Standing behind the small drummer, he wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close. He felt Joey rest his head against him, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Corey whispered, although he wasn't entirely referring to the skyline.

“Yeah,” Joey breathed, happy and content in Corey's arms. The moment was perfect, and he wanted to savour it. They stood for a few minutes, wrapped together, before Corey made the first move.

“Come,” he whispered into Joey's ear. The drummer tore his eyes away from the scenery stretched before them and followed Corey to the bed, their hands entwined. Corey sat down on the bed and sunk into the mattress, pulling Joey closer until he stood between his legs. Joey let his hands rest on Corey's shoulders, his fingers curling around his hair. He looked down and watched as Corey pushed his shirt up to expose his stomach, and gasped as he felt Corey kiss his skin softly. His fingers tightened around Corey's curls in pleasure as the sweet sensation made his body tremble. He closed his eyes, giving in to Corey as the singer seduced him.

He was disappointed when he felt Corey stand up. Just a moment later though Corey was pulling his shirt further up, and he eagerly pulled it over his head. He tugged at Corey's shirt and dragged it over his head, throwing it onto the floor. Corey grinned at him before gripping his waist and pulling him towards him, and they ended up sprawled together on the bed. Joey found himself on top of Corey, and before he could even rearrange himself the singer was kissing him furiously, and he could hardly breathe. He felt arms snake around him and hold him tight, and suddenly nothing else mattered because he knew that he had Corey.

“It's been too long,” Corey quipped, grinning up at Joey, who had no choice but to laugh.

“I can agree with that,” he added, returning Corey's smile. The singer reached up to kiss the end of Joey's nose, who shut his eyes in reflex. He opened them in a hurry when he felt Corey's hands tugging at his belt. He helped him pull his jeans open, uncomfortably aware of how aroused he was. Corey didn't seem to care though, as he pushed Joey's jeans down over his hips. He could only reach so far though, and Joey had to scramble off him to ditch his jeans and boxers.

Corey took the opportunity to rid himself of his own cumbersome clothing. Joey tossed his jeans back onto his bag, and as he rummaged through a side pocket for a box of condoms he couldn't help but watch Corey as he lay on the bed. It all still seemed like some sort of perverted dream, and he would know, he'd had so many involving Corey, nakedness and condoms he'd lost count.

“What are you waiting for?” Corey asked, reclining on the bed with his head on his elbows.

“I'm coming,” Joey said, as his hand enclosed the box he had been looking for. As an afterthought he grabbed his bottle of lube as well. He climbed back onto the bed, and Corey took the packages from his hand. He laid them on the bed, close at hand, as Joey lay down beside him.

After the difficulty it'd taken to get this far, Corey was in no mood to hurry. He wanted to savour every moment. He stroked Joey's cheek tenderly, and as the drummer closed his eyes in pleasure he laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. They rolled closer together, their warm, naked bodies pressed close. Corey let his hand drift over Joey's hip and up his back, his fingertips grazing softly at his skin. Joey gasped as the sensation rippled through him, and tucked his head against Corey's chest. He felt a hand comb through his hair as Corey's other drifted in circles on his lower back. His arousal was even more desperate now, and he knew Corey must have been able to feel him the same as he could feel Corey hard against his thigh.

He wanted to touch Corey, explore his skin, and let his hand brush over his stomach. He could see Corey's tattoo in his mind’s eye and idly traced what he knew would be the outline. He pressed his lips to Corey's chest and kissed him softly as he grew bolder. The little moans he could hear Corey make gave him confidence, and he let his fingers explore Corey's hips. Corey hadn't ceased massaging his back, and with a dim awareness Joey realised he was drifting lower and lower with each circle. Then there was a hand stroking so low he had to moan, but it still wasn't where he wanted it to be, and he knew Corey was teasing him deliberately. He tilted his hip, trying to influence Corey's touch, but the singer only laughed.

“Patience, baby,” he whispered. Joey made a noise of frustration against Corey's chest, but it didn't help. Desperate for more, he rubbed his hands closer to Corey's erection. Not bothering to take things slowly and seductively, he slid his hand over Corey's hard on. The ploy worked. As Corey gasped out in pleasure he relented, and Joey joined him in vocal appreciation as he felt the finger slide inside him.

“Oh God...” Joey choked, his legs moving against Corey's restlessly. The temperature in the room seemed to have spiked, and Joey could feel himself sweat. He stroked Corey hard, kissing him furiously. They lost control and writhed together on the bed, a tangle of legs and limbs and hair and sweat.

Corey progressed to two fingers, much to Joey's delight, and increased the speed until the drummer could barely breathe for ecstasy. He could feel Joey's erection between them, grinding against his stomach, and his own was leaking profusely. He knew he wasn't far, and wanted Joey to explode with him. With a well practised motion, he twisted his fingers inside Joey and felt for the bump that would make him crazy.

Joey's cries turned to screams as Corey teased his prostate. It was not even two seconds before Corey realised the drummer was cumming hard, and the muscles quivering around his fingers and the flow of semen soaking his belly made him close his eyes and succumb. He shuddered against Joey, whose lithe body was still spasming, his tiny hands still stroking Corey's cock. The pleasure those hands could exact....

Joey was the first to regain his breath, gasping for air. He kissed Corey back to life, smiling at him like an angel.

“You're so beautiful,” Corey couldn't help but whisper as he raised a hand to stroke Joey's cheek, and the smile that crossed his lover's face was worth a thousand summers.

“So are you,” came the quiet reply, and then Joey's blood red lips were pressing against his and they found themselves kissing deeply.

For how many minutes they lost themselves in the kiss, Corey couldn't imagine. All he could feel was Joey pressing close to him, his arms wrapped around him, soft lips against his and when they parted, the air felt empty and still, although Joey was still there. Then he closed the distance to pull Joey close to him again, one arm around his body and the other rummaging around on the mattress.

His fingers touched the box he was searching for and he pulled it closer. He had to disentangle himself from Joey to break open a packet and roll the condom on. Joey had found the bottle of lube and to Corey's immense pleasure was using it exactly the way Corey had intended. He let Joey use the lube on himself, watching as he rearranged himself between his partner's spread legs. Joey's lubed hand reached out for his cock as he came closer, and he expertly spread the grease over the condom.

Corey leaned over him and braced himself with two hands on the pillow, letting Joey guide him. He saw the drummer tilt his hips to make it easier and then he felt himself pressing against Joey's entrance. He kept his pressure gentle, penetrating him as slowly as he could. Joey's fingers were digging into his shoulder now, his eyes closed tightly and his mouth open slightly in a never ending moan. Corey didn't need to ask how he felt. It was written on his face.

He settled himself close over Joey, buried deep inside him. Joey wrapped his arms around his shoulders, his legs tucked up around Corey's hips. The singer eased out slowly before pushing back in again, moaning at just how good Joey felt. He smiled at the sweet sounds of pleasure Joey was making and kissed him softly on the cheek.

The kisses fell easily from Corey's lips as he increased the pace, encouraged by the body beneath him. Joey let him know what he needed and Corey was more than happy to oblige. When Joey panted for him to go harder, he wasted no time in pleasing him, enjoying it just as much himself. He began to stroke Joey's cock to the rhythm of his thrusting, and when Joey's cries turned to gibberish he knew the drummer was close.

He watched Joey as he came, captivated by the blissful look on his face. It was enough to catapult him into orgasm, and he shared Joey's ecstasy, their bodies so close and entwined they were as if one.

And that's how they relaxed, minds and bodies satiated. Their sticky skin started to cool, damp hair began to dry. Corey's lips found patches of sk in and he kissed Joey tenderly wherever he could to murmurs of appreciation. While his tongue danced over Joey's translucent skin, he felt his partner stroke his hair languidly.

“You going to fall asleep?” Corey asked quietly and slowly, looking up at Joey who didn't cease the movement.

“Yes,” Joey said sleepily. Just to add to the effect, he yawned.

Corey chuckled as he crawled back up over Joey to lay beside him once again. “Did I wear you out?” he asked teasingly, head resting on one hand and the other drawing lazy circles on Joey's chest.

Joey smiled, his eyes closed with tiredness. “You always wear me out.”

Corey, finding himself lost for words, let his fingers dance over Joey's skin. For a few moments he stared at Joey, watching him slip into sleep. Not even sure if he was still awake, he found his voice.

“Was it worth it?” he asked so quietly he doubted Joey would hear, even if he was not yet asleep.

He didn't expect an answer. When it came, less than a minute later, the object of affections barely even having stirred, he was surprised.

“Every second.”

And then, when he was sure Joey had to be asleep, there came a whisper.

“Birthday wishes do come true.”


End file.
